


Yours for the Taking

by ras_elased



Category: SGA - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-04
Updated: 2007-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ras_elased/pseuds/ras_elased





	Yours for the Taking

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Current mood:**

| 

  
sappily romantic  
  
---|---  
  
**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[fic: yours for the taking](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/fic%3A%20yours%20for%20the%20taking), [genre: established relationship](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20established%20relationship), [genre: romance](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20romance), [pairing: mcshep](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/pairing%3A%20mcshep), [rating: pg](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/rating%3A%20pg)  
  
  
_   
**Fic: Yours for the Taking**   
_

  
**Title**: Yours for the Taking

  
**Author**: Ras Elased

  
**Rating**: PG

  
**Word count**: 891

  
**Summary**: I can't believe this is happening to me / And I raise my hand / As if to show you that I was yours / That I was so yours for the taking / I'm so yours for the taking

  
**Spoilers**: Little ones for McKay and Mrs. Miller and Sunday, but you wouldn't notice them if you haven't seen the episodes.

  
**Author's notes**: Blue October is my new favoritest band _evah!_ Inspired by their beautiful song 18th Floor Balcony ([lyrics](http://blueoctober.henryhank.com/18thfloorbalcony.html), [mp4](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=O5DZKW9O)) because that song paints such a rich picture of the scene in my head I had to write it down. I might try to get this in mp3 format, if anyone's interested. Let me know in the comments, it's really a gorgeous song! Unbeta'd because it's so short, so please point out any mistakes I may have missed. Thanks!

  


~~~

 

John's fingers card through Rodney's hair, an almost unconscious motion he's been making nearly all night. He is sprawled out on Rodney's balcony, Rodney's head resting against John's ribcage and the city lights twinkling far below them. Or maybe that's the stars. They've all started to blend together at this point.

 

John knows the way he's resting his head against the wall is going to make his neck twinge like hell tomorrow, and Rodney will blame John for the backache he'll have after lying on the hard metal balcony all night. John will probably let him. He's too tired to care right now, anyway.

 

They'd retreated to Rodney's balcony after their latest near miss, too wired to sleep and too exhausted to do anything else but just sit and soak it all in. Rodney had threaded his fingers through John's as their shoulders pressed together, side by side. John had held fast to those small gifts of warmth. At some point, Rodney had started talking, or maybe he'd never stopped. One topic bled into another, the endless disjointed stream of conversation that only makes sense late at night. Rodney had talked about the modifications he'd made to the air filtration systems and Samson's latest attempt at idiocy and how much he missed Jeannie, and somehow John found himself talking about the stash of chocolate he'd won off Marquez and why it hadn't worked out with his ex-wife and how he never thought he'd live up to the image of his father.

 

At some point the left over adrenaline had drained away, and they found themselves slumped low against the wall, but still stubbornly fighting off sleep. This seemed like something they shouldn't sleep through.

 

So John lifted their joined hands over Rodney's head to wrap his arm over Rodney's shoulders. He pulled Rodney with him as he shimmied down the wall into a halfway comfortable prone position. Rodney's head came to rest on John's ribs, and he squeezed Rodney's hand in his where they lay against Rodney's chest. Rodney was loose and warm against him, eyelids drooping but refusing to close, so when a soft breeze ruffled Rodney's hair it seemed natural to reach out and smooth it down. He's continued smoothing it down for the last several hours.

 

Even with exhaustion threatening to claim him, Rodney hasn't stopped talking. John can feel Rodney's sleep-slurred voice vibrating through his chest, a low hum that warms him from the inside out. He lazily watches the horizon turn into a thin silver-blue line, lets the crisp, early morning air wash over his skin. When he breathes in deep, he can smell Rodney's familiar scent, like sparks and ozone and coffee. He knows when he goes back to his room later, his t-shirt will still smell like Rodney.

 

Eventually, Rodney runs out of words. If John didn't know better, he'd think Rodney had finally drifted off, but the hand still tightly holding his tells John he's awake. By unspoken agreement, they begin to stir when the sky turns from silver to hazy gold to ruby, and Rodney groggily hauls John to his feet. But neither seems quite ready to let this go, to head through that closed door and back to the world of reality and responsibility and day-to-day life. They stand next to each other on the balcony, looking out over the railing. Their faces are warmed by the slanted rays of the sunrise, a few stars still doggedly twinkling in the dark sky above them. They're also trying hold on to this for as long as they can.

 

When John turns to Rodney, he sees that his eyes are closed in the peaceful expression John has only previously seen on Rodney when he's asleep. The rosy orange of the breaking daylight is making Rodney's pale skin glow with a light that seems to come from somewhere inside, and John's never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He has to grip the railing tight when he feels his world tilt sideways. He's afraid he's either going to fly or fall, or maybe a little of both. God, when had this happened? A small voice inside him answers that he shouldn't be so surprised, it's always been this way.

 

Rodney opens his eyes and looks at John, and John can tell from Rodney's expression that John must look as wrecked as he feels. He opens his mouth to speak, feels the overwhelming need to tell Rodney everything he's just discovered, that he's really known all along, but he can't find the words. Instead, he swallows hard past the lump in his throat. John's whole body is trembling, and he can feel the wind rushing by his ears. He reaches out slowly with his left hand, palm up. It's the only thing he can think to do.

 

Rodney looks at him for a moment, then reaches out to take John's shaking hand in his own. He gently slides their palms together, reassurance and invitation and gratitude and so many other things John isn't sure he'll ever really know. Then Rodney is kissing him, sweet and hot against his lips, and John can feel his heart shudder to a stop in his chest.

 

When Rodney pulls away, he looks a lot like how John feels. "Yeah," Rodney chokes out in a raspy voice. "Me too."


End file.
